


The Upper Deep

by Jbee



Series: Gates of Askr: Year One [21]
Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24446167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jbee/pseuds/Jbee
Summary: No Mission Too Small! Ranulf has been tasked with helping a popular seafood joint get back on its feet after losing all it's staff. Was it the owners salty attitude that drove them away, or maybe something other then his famous Kraken Böllurs that smells fishy...
Relationships: Lay | Ranulf/Original Characters(s)
Series: Gates of Askr: Year One [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1703545
Kudos: 2





	The Upper Deep

**Author's Note:**

> This series is a collection of short stories driven by the FEH Subreddit Weekly Writing Prompts. First published May 19, 2020. "The local tavern is understaffed, and the Order steps in to help!"

The smell of hot oil and seasonings hit his senses as Ranulf entered Sumbl Alley. The sounds of bowls and knives clanging and scraping rang as merchants ready their products for the day. Pots of stew bubbled and boiled away, their fragrance hung heavy in the humid air. The goods from taverns and food stalls line the street of one of the most popular places to eat in the inner city.

A poster rustled at his boot, half soaked in a puddle from last night’s rain. He looked down to see Anna’s smug face winking back at him with the Order’s newest slogan in big bold letters. “ _No Mission too Small!”._ The Orders efforts to sway public opinions and take charge of their own cash flow. Every hero was expected to do their part, and many of his close friends had been scattered across Askr with their own assignments.

He looked down at his mission card he received last night while he was putting in some work at 1606 Fljót Lane, the quaint townhouse he had agreed to help renovate for Kiran in exchange of renting the second bedroom, his own little refuge from the heroes’ barracks. Anna was not too happy when she found out about this little arrangement, which screwed her out making a larger profit on the sale of the home. She had been giving him crap assignments since this new initiative started.

 **_Mission Case 7839: The Upper Deep Tavern, 34 Sumbl Alley, Request for Temporary Staff, team count 1:_ ** _Tavern owner, Dag (no last name given), has filed a request for one (1) temporary staff member for light kitchen duties. Unfortunate events have cause staff members of the establishment to leave and it is struggling to keep employees. The owner is asking for temporary relief while he seeks to fill positions._

Ranulf rubbed the back of his neck, and looked around. He was sure he was in the right place, but there was nothing but food stalls lining the old brick walls of this part of the alley. No brick and mortar tavern in sight. A large muscular man mixing a vat of batter caught his eye, he looked as if he belonged pulling rigging on a ship, not cooking in an alley. His hair was messy and graying, held back with a white head band. A black, worn eye-patch strapped across his face and his clothes were as wrinkled as his skin. He grunted hard as he stirred the pot, oil sizzling in the cast iron pans beside him.

“Excuse me, merchant, I’m looking for the Upper Deep Tavern?” Ranulf asked the gruff man working in the stall, “It should be around here… somewhere?” He looked around again.

The man didn’t look up from the pot he was stirring, and grabbed a bottle of seasoning, turning it upside down and shaking it vigorously, covering the top of the batter with unknown brown speckles. “Who wants to know, huh?” He barked at Ranulf, slamming the shaker down on the wooden table, a cloud of seasoning flumed from the top. He finally looked up from his work, his one eye widened in surprise. “What in the name of Hel are you?!” he exclaimed, “Thorr’s demon baby?”

It wasn’t the first time Ranulf had this type of reaction from the Askran locals, even if most tried to hide their shock or curiosity from him. “No, I’m from Gallia and I’m…” he began to explain noticing that the old man’s attention soon returned back to his task of mixing the pale batter in the pot. Ranulf stopped mid-sentence, why did he even bother, it’s not like these folks have even heard of Tellius, let alone Gallia, He thought to himself, shifting his weight, “I’m from the Order of Heroes and…”

“ _Pffft_ ,” the old man made an unimpressed sound as soon as the words left his Ranulf lips. “Order of Heroes… _Bah_!” the man spit to the side as if those words were poison.

“Aaand I was assigned to help out at a local tavern,” Ranulf continued trying his best not to let the old man’s attitude rub him the wrong way. “the Upper Deep? But I don’t see...”

“You!? HA!” the old man laughed so hard he launched himself forward, almost knocking over the vat he was stirring. “You don’t look like a hero! Where’s your white cape, eh?”

Ranulf sneered, he could feel himself getting hot, and the stagnate air of the humid alley wasn’t helping. He took a breath, trying to clear his mind, “Look, if you can point me in the right direction, then I can get out of your way.”

The old man grunted, and pulled the large spoon from the vat, hitting the side. The clang of the steel echoed through the alley mixing with the other sounds of merchants cooking. “Upper Deep? Why you’re lookin’ at it!” The man hollered, walking over to the side and cranking a lever. A blue canvas awning began to roll out, shaking with each push and pull of the crank. Painted light blue waves and a red octopus with the Askran script written within the white caps. “Welcome to the Upper Deep, home of the best Kraken Böllur in Askr!” he proudly said, tossing a dingy apron at Ranulf. “Here, put this on.”

Catching the apron before it fell to the ground, he shook his head, looking at the mission card again. “Wait, hold on. This says you’re a tavern that’s understaff?” Ranulf stated, he pointed at the old man’s work station. “It’s just a food stall, you don’t have any staff.”

“What are you? Dense? I have you!” the old man barked at him. He turned to a short barrel full of water that was sitting on a makeshift tale and dunked his arm in. “The name’s Dag.” He said pulling out a shiny brown and orange octopus, the water spilling over as he slapped the creature onto a chopping board, its tentacles reaching and stretching out, clinging to any surface they could cling to. “Well, come on then, these tentacles aren’t going to chop themselves.”

“You forged your request.” Ranulf sighed, recently a lot of heroes sent out on missions were reporting of an up-ward trend of citizens exaggerating, or lying about their claims for the Order’s help in an effort to get free work. Anna had been adamant that the Order would only be helping those that truly needed it, and stressed that citizens caught taking advantage of their generosity would have to pay her fines.

“Huh? Lies! This is a two-man operation; do you see anyone else here?” Dag shouted in his defense, stretching his arms out and looking around his stall. “You know what, I knew this was a bad idea.” He sneered, grabbing the octopus that was trying to make an escape and plunging it back into the barrel, water splashing up, and all over the table. “forget you! I’m fine on my own!” he told Ranulf, waving him off and turning his back, mumbling as he did. “ _No mission too small,_ my ass!” Dag snorted, “You’re the problem! You and the Order!” he shouted again, turning to face Ranulf, his one eye wild with anger. “You should all go home! Askr was fine before heroes like you started showing up!”

This attitude hit a nerve, it was something he had seen in Tellius many times before, but this time it wasn’t because he was Laguz, it was because he was in the Order. He chuckled at the thought of it, people were the same in any world, it didn’t matter where he was. “Well, I guess I’m done here.” Ranulf shrugged, it was pointless to get into a squabble with the locals, and he decided that it was best to take the high ground and leave without reporting Dag to Anna.

“Good ridden.” Dag spat again, picking up his large batter spoon and jamming it back in the vat.

Ranulf turned back to the alley, there were other merchants who had arrived and all were rushing to set up shop for the afternoon. Looking around he noticed many of the other stalls were run by small families or young merchants working together, looking to make a name for themselves. His stomach rumbled as he saw all the delicious variety of items being prepared.

One stall in particular caught his eye. Much like the Upper Deep there was an image of an octopus juggling toasty brown böllurs on the banner. A young man, dress more like a wealthy tradesman, was standing out front giving orders to the two cooks that were working the front of the stall, and two larger men working in the back lifting barrels of water, and mindlessly chopping vegetables. Maybe he had it wrong and Dag really did need the help to run his business, He wondered looking around the alley. The young merchant that had been giving orders began to walk across the cobble stone street. Ranulf couldn’t help but watch the thin blonde man stride past him and towards Dag’s food stall. He turned to watch the young man smugly smile as he approached the Upper Deep.

“Hey _Drag_.” He slyly said. “All on your own again?” he pouted, lifting a concerned eyebrow. “What a shame.”

“Edzard! I was wondering what the stank was.” Dag growled, turning towards the clean-cut merchant. “Get away from my booth! You’ll spoil my batter with your perfume!”

“When are you going to give it up?” Edzard snorted, “You know you can’t keep going on like this. People have expectations when they come to Sumbl Alley.” He told him, turning his nose up, and fixing his collar. “You’re old and alone, Dag, barely can grip your knife, let alone work through a whole afternoon cooking your böllurs.”

“Watch yourself,” Dag snarled, as he slammed the large spoon he was holding down. “I’m still able to kick your scrawny ass into next week!”

Glaring at Dag, Edzard reached into his coat, “Your stall is losing patrons to me by the day.” He calmly stated. “ _Too slow,_ they say.”

“My way is just fine! You and your gadgets are ruining this art!” Dag barked back, losing what small amount of composure he had. “Tasteless pillows! No substance at all!”

“You know my offer still stands.” Edzard pulled a piece of paper and an ink pen. Placing them on the stall counter and sliding it over. “Sell your Kraken Böllur recipe to me, then you can at least retire comfortably, somewhere in the country.”

Dag just stared at the paper, and then back to Edzard only to let out the loudest belly laugh he could. “Still can’t figure it out on your own!? You and your fancy fan dandled methods!?” Dag howled, the sound of his laughter carried down the alley. “Sell you my recipe!? HA! Over my dead body!”

“That’s just a matter of time old man.” Edzard sneered, and his face flushed red, reaching over to snatch the paper and pen, and shoving them back in his coat. The young merchant straightened his posture and took a long breath, smiling when he finished. “Oh, and Dag, don’t forget that rents due today, and by the look of the pile of bottles behind you I wonder if you have enough to pay your stall fees.” He smugly said as he turned to leave, “maybe you can make up the difference this afternoon, but I sincerely doubt that.” He laughed as he strode away.

“How dare you! I’ll be fine! You’ll see!” Dag hollered back, seething at his teeth. “The Upper Deep isn’t going anywhere!”

Ranulf sighed, after overhearing the conversation. He watched the young merchant stride back to his stall and start shouting at the workers he had in his booth. “Damn it.” He groaned, “Let’s get this over with.” He mumbled to himself as he walked back over to the Upper Deep. “What can I do to help?” he asked Dag who had taken a seat in the back of the stall, rubbing the knuckles of his hand.

“Huh!? You’re still here Skogkatt?” Dag grunted, raising an eyebrow, he huffed trying to rekindle the fiery anger in him that seemed to be cooling. “I thought I told you I don’t need you. I’ll find a new hire by the end of the day!”

“By the end of the day?” Ranulf questioned, leaning against the awning post. “Something tells me that you’re not going to have enough time to find someone to fill the position and make the rent money you need.” He smiled at the old merchant. “Come on, show me what you want me to do, and I can run the stall while you find some help.”

“So you heard all that, did ya?” Dag shook his head, and sighed in defeat. It was clear he really had no choice but to take the offer. “Fine, what can you cook?”

“Well, I, um.” Ranulf stammered, the smile faded from his face. He had never really needed to cook his own meals before. “I Don’t…”

Dag cut him off, obviously unimpressed with this so called hero’s answer. “Okay, let’s start with chopping then.” He told him, handing over a large butcher’s cleaver. “Take this.”

Ranulf took the knife by the handle and held it so that blade rested against his forearm, bracing himself for an attack. “Okay. I’m ready.” He said with determination.

“Why are you holding it like that!?” Dag questioned, snatching the knife back. “We’re not on a battlefield Skogkatt!”

“Ahhh…” Ranulf didn’t know what to say, the only time he had held a knife of that size was during a fight.

Dag shook his head again, and chuckled softly as he tossed the apron again to Ranulf, “Put this on.” he told him, grabbing a large bunch of spring onions, “Just watch and learn Skogkatt!”

* * *

Smoke and aromas rose from the cast iron pans while Dag flipped and turned the small stuff böllurs with long tapered wooden sticks.

“Hey! These…” Ranulf popped another toasted Kraken Böllur in his mouth, as he sat on the back table and watched the rough old merchant make his signature dish. “are pretty great!” he said between bites, while he stuffed another ball into his mouth, savoring the newly introduced flavours.

“Skogkatt! Pay attention!” Dag turned around and barked, “Stop stuffing your face-hole and get over here! You just have to turn them like this when you see them browning along the side. Just a flick of the wrist!” he said handing over the long cooking tools. “You give it a try now.”

Ranulf hopped down from where he was sitting and approached the cast iron pan as Dag poured the batter in the one beside it, stopping to sprinkle chunks of octopus and various vegetables. The old merchant gestured Ranulf to begin on a batch that had already been bubbling away. “Like this?” He asked crisscrossing the sticks and cutting into the half-cooked batter. “ _Yah_!” he cried as he dug the pointed ends in, ripping through the surface of the delicate böllurs in an attempt to flip them.

“Er, maybe with a little less force…” Dag rubbed his neck and shook his head, taking the sticks back and demonstrating the process once again, “You have the speed, Skogkatt, but you just need to tone down the amount of power in the motion.” He lectured, popping the böllurs out with a toothpick into a paper dish and ladling a viscous brown sauce on top. “After you just top with Upper Deep sauce and fish flakes!”

Picking up the wooden sticks Ranulf followed Dag’s lead, “Eeyy?” he said, looking for Dag’s approval while he showed the old merchant his finished product of uneven cooked lumps, brown sauce dripping from the side.

“Better, Skogkatt.” Dag laughed, “Just keep practicing while I’m gone!” he told Ranulf taking off his apron, “And quit eating all the products!”

“Just taste testing…” Ranulf mumbled as he shoveled the practice böllurs in his mouth.

“Here take this. To keep your whiskers back.” Dag told him, giving Ranulf a long white hand band that matched his own. “Er, I don’t want you scaring the customers.”

Ranulf furrowed his eyebrows, as he tied the band around his head. “I don’t even have…”

“Just get back to work, there’s a line forming!” Dag shouted at him, as he turned to leave “I’ll be back when I find myself a new cook.” He told him, flipping a sign on the front counter that said “Open” in Askran script. “Enjoy the afternoon rush, Skogkatt!” he laughed as he walked away.

Citizens of all walks of life were trickling in to Sumbl Alley, and a few patrons were already starting to gather in front of the Upper Deep. “Excuse me, we’ll take two orders please.” A woman with a young man in tow asked.

“You got it!” Ranulf exclaimed, pouring out a new batch of batter. He dropped down a handful of octopus chunks and vegetables into the hot iron rounds and found that he was actually enjoying himself, well at least once he got past Dag’s prickly attitude. _I’m going to have to bring Kiran here after she gets back,_ he thought while getting into the groove after making a few batches of the savory snack.

Ranulf noticed the next patrons in line were young kids that were out with their families. He couldn’t help but try a few tricks while flipping the böllurs over into the take-away dishes. “Watch this!” he told them, as he flicked the hot fried böllurs into the air one after another, catching them in the dish, and simultaneously pouring sauce on them. He picked up the toppings to sprinkle them on top while spreading the second white sauces in a lattice pattern in one smooth motion. “Here you go!” he smiled while handing over the savory treat, while the on-looking customers clapped, enjoying the small performance.

“So, the old coot managed to find someone?” the familiar sneer of Edzard broke through the merriment of the crowd. “A bit of a showman, isn’t he?” he laughed, while he pushed his way to the front of the counter, escorted by the two larger workers he had at his own stall.

“Look if you’re not going to order something, then move aside for someone who will.” Ranulf told Edzard while pouring more batter into the hot pans.

“All business eh? I like that.” The thin snooty merchant said leaning against the counter. “So how much is it going cost me for you to take off?” he smugly asked reaching over and sticking a toothpick into one of the fresh böllurs and eating it.

Ranulf stopped what he was doing, and dropped the handful of octopus back in their container. “excuse me?” he asked, it was starting to make sense how the Upper Deep managed to get into it’s unfortunate situation.

“I’ll even sweeten the deal; I could use someone with a flair for the theatrics to work at my stall” Edzard said, dropping a hefty coin purse on the counter. “What say you? A full time job at a real establishment. Surely better then working for a crotchety old man.”

“Oh I get it. You’re the reason The Upper Deep can’t keep any new hires.” Ranulf confronted Edzard, as he picked up the coin pouch off the counter. “Can’t cut it on your own merits, so you have to sabotage others?” he said as he flung it back to the shady young merchant.

Edzard caught the pouch in the chest, and glared at Ranulf. “Why you!? Do you know who you are speaking to?” he sneered, turning red. “Fine, if you won’t take my offer, then I will just have to push you out!”

“Leave the stall alone.” Ranulf demanded, not backing down. “I won’t tell you again.”

“Tell me? Seems like you need a reminder to know your place.” Edzard hissed, the colour of his flushed face clashing with his fair hair. “I’m just going to have to give you a lesson you won’t soon forget!” he cried gesturing his goons towards the stand. “Knock it over!”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Ranulf told them taking off his apron, and tossing it aside, as he watched two of Edzard’s workers make their way over to the stall. “The Order doesn’t take kindly to threats.” He said calmly as he took a few steps toward the goons, transforming into his large cat form in front of the packed alley.

“The Order!?” Edzard cried, taking a step back “Wh-at… what are you?!” he stammered as he saw a blur of fur dash from the side of the stall and towards his thugs.

 _Shit_ , Ranulf thought to himself, a sharp pain from the foot that was healing carried up his leg as soon as he transformed. He hadn’t been in this form since his fight with the Rat King, and it was clear that his foot was still in the process of healing. _I just need to scare them off,_ Ranulf tried to ignore his pain, and leaped towards Edzard’s men. _Use your speed not your strength,_ he told himself, _just like what Dag said._ He slashed at their chests, shredding their clothes and just scraping their skin enough to make them think twice about this fight. Ranulf winced when he felt something pop in his ankle, as he landed back on the cobble stone road.

“Come back here you cowards!” Edzard cried as his workers ran off down the crowded alley. “Fine I will deal with you myself!” he turned back and screamed at Ranulf, reaching into his coat and pulling out a tome. “You think just because you’re in the Order you can throw your weight around in Askr, well there are those of us that don’t support you, that think it’s time for a change!” Edzard laughed maliciously as he opened the book and light red sparks began to drift from the pages. He brushed the open book with the back of his hand, and red plumes of smoke drifted out of it as he began reciting an incantation just under his breath.

Ranulf turned in time to see Edzard hand stretch out, followed by a red flash as he cast his spell toward him. _Just a little more,_ he thought dodging the spell, and striding toward the young merchant. _Don’t stop now!_ he told himself as he jumped at his target, suppressing any pain he felt from his mind, and blinding him to the world around him. His paws made contact with the merchant’s upper body, knocking the tome from his hand and pushing him to the ground hard.

“I yield! I yield” Edzard wheezed as the large Laguz pinned him down, Ranulf growled as he stood over the frighten merchant, his muzzle pulled back exposing his fangs. “Someone get this monstrosity off of me!” he cried out, struggling to free himself, tears began to run down his face as Ranulf’s claws dug deeper into his clothing. “Call the guards!” he shouted, pleading for someone to help him.

Ranulf snarled again, pain and anger clouded his thoughts, “That’s enough Skogkatt.” A stern but calm voice cut through his madness and he felt a strong hand on his back, just between his shoulder blades. Ranulf shook his head, trying to regain control of his actions. He jumped off of Edzard, wincing as the pain returned, limping as he made his way back behind the Upper Deep stall, with Dag following close behind.

“That’s right, walk away!” Edzard shouted at their backs, wiping his tear stained face. “Just you wait until my family learns of this! I’ll make you pay!” he yelled again as a couple of his stall workers tried to help him up. “You and your so called Order of Heroes! I’ll make you all pay!”

Ranulf hobbled as he transformed back to his humanoid form, and leaned on the table, rubbing his leg. He breathed a sigh of relief as the pain began to subside, realizing it was only brought on while he was in his transform state. “Shit, Dag. I’m sorry.” He finally said, apologizing to the old merchant, he knew he shouldn’t be engaging in fights with citizens on the street, he’s been in situations like this before, but there was something about Edzard sabotaging the Upper Deep that rubbed him the wrong way. “I think I might have made this feud of yours a lot worse.”

Dag stared at him in disbelief, before finally letting out the loudest laugh that echoed through the noisy alley. “Forget about it Skogkatt!” he slapped Ranulf back, picking up two glasses and filling them with a brown liquor. “You don’t last fifty years in this business without surviving a few stall wars.” He smiled, and handed Ranulf one of the glasses. “How do you think I lost this eye?!” Dag pointed at his patch, with the biggest shit-eating grin across his face.

Ranulf chuckled and shook his head, “Well at least we got to the bottom of your recent misfortunes.” He said, sniffing the liquor, it burned his nostrils and he immediately pulled his face back from the glass. “Did you have any luck finding someone?”

“Er... Yes, and no.” Dag shrugged, “You know, you were pretty impressive this afternoon.” He said, draining the whole glass at once and swallowing it loudly. “How about fourteen coins an afternoon, four days a week? You can leave the prep and clean-up work to me.”

Ranulf sat in stunned silence, he wasn’t expecting Dag to make him any job offers. He had to admit he was tempted; he did have a good time this afternoon. _No,_ he thought, _no way, he already had 1606 Fljót Lane and the Order to think about,_ he laughed at the thought of taking on another task. “Oh no, I have enough work on my…”

“Hey mister! Are you really from the Order of Heroes?” a young boy asked, he and his sister peeked their heads around the corner of the stall. “Do you know Prince Alfonse?”

“Can you show us how you tossed the böllurs in the air again!?” the little girl interrupted her brother, her curls bouncing as she did in excitement.

Their mother pulled the nosy siblings away, “If you want to see him make his böllurs, you’ll have to get in line.” She lectured them as a gentleman knocked on the counter, “You’re still open right?” he asked, as he looked up at the menu. “I would like to get two orders.” He said stretching out two fingers, and a line began to form behind him.

“Did you see how he took out those clowns!?” a neighboring merchant said to their co-worker, while make air punches. “I’m sure glad he’s working in our part of the alley!” the co-work replied as they filled their sweet treats with cream.

Dag laughed, and pour himself another drink, “I’ll make it sixteen coins, and you can have all the Kraken Böllurs you can eat.”

Ranulf looked out over the alley, _I could make this work_ , he thought to himself, _renovations might take longer, but I could at least keep an eye on the activities in Sumbl Alley, well that’s what I will tell Anna anyways._ He picked up his glass and knocked it against Dag’s. “Let’s get started then!” he said as he knocked back the strong liquor and returned to the front of the counter to take orders form eager patrons.

Dag smiled as he watched Ranulf take control. It had been a long time since he felt this kind of excitement in the air, “I guess that’s why they call you heroes.” He said to himself, as he poured his second drink out on to the ground, “Welcome aboard the Upper Deep Skogkatt.”

End.


End file.
